


now and then, now again

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, non-hockey au, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: DSHey man, long time to talk. You going to the reunion? Would be cool to catch up.MMYeah, for sure. I’ll be there. See you in a couple weeksDSAwesome. Can’t wait. :)“Do you wanna go to my high school reunion with me?” Mitch asks, pleased at the way Auston’s face goes from sleepily annoyed to fond after a few blinks of his eyes.“Really, Marns? You wanna introduce me to your old buddies? Didn’t know it was that serious.”or:Dylan is Mitch's past. Auston is his future.When worlds collide.





	now and then, now again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [viriditas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viriditas/gifts).



**DS**  
Hey man, long time to talk. You going to the reunion? Would be cool to catch up.

The message has been sitting on Mitch’s phone for three days now, and he’s never been happier that he turned off read receipts after an unfortunate incident with a one night stand. It’s a warm Sunday morning in June, and he’s laying flat on his back with his phone in front of his face, the early-morning rays of sun sneaking through the window shades and creeping up around his ankles. He wiggles his toes and brushes them lightly over the back of Auston’s calf, smiling at the way Auston snuffles in his sleep where his face is buried in his arm.

Mitch turns his head to the left just to look, to admire the strong expanse of Auston’s bare back, the width of his shoulders and the swell of his ass, where the covers are pushed down just enough that Mitch can see the faint tan line Auston has left from their trip to Aruba last month.

He looks at his phone again, at the message staring back it him. _Would be cool to catch up._

He presses his lips to Auston’s shoulder once, twice, three times.

 **MM**  
Yeah, for sure. I’ll be there. See you in a couple weeks.

Mitch’s phone vibrates in his hand just a few seconds later. 

**DS**  
Awesome. Can’t wait. :)

“Why’re you awake?” Auston mumbles, opening one eye to look at Mitch like he's judging. Mitch startles, fumbling his phone in his hand. 

“Do you wanna go to my high school reunion with me?” Mitch asks, pleased at the way Auston’s face goes from sleepily annoyed to fond after a few blinks of his eyes. 

“Really, Marns? You wanna introduce me to your old buddies? Didn’t know it was that serious.” The corner of his mouth curves up, and he’s teasing, Mitch knows -- they’ve been dating almost two years and have lived together for six months now -- and there’s nothing Mitch can do but lean in and kiss him. 

“I love you,” he whispers, and Auston smiles against his mouth. 

“Love you too,” Auston grumbles. “Now go back to sleep.”

_Awesome. Can’t wait. :)_

Mitch probably won’t sleep for the next two weeks.

(He does, though, and when he does, he dreams about Dylan.

Fuck.)

\--

“How many times are you going to change?” Auston calls from the bedroom. Mitch looks at himself in the mirror as he fastens a blue tie around his neck. It matches the button-down he’s got on, but something about it -- just like the pile of ties and shirts at his feet -- just isn’t right. He sighs heavily and pulls the tie over his head, making a face when it gets caught on his nose, before throwing it to the floor with the rest of them. 

Auston appears in the mirror behind him, his dark hair slicked to the side, perfectly in place. His shoulders look amazing in the grey vee-neck he’s wearing, and Mitch closes his eyes and smiles when Auston wraps his arms around his waist, hooking his chin over Mitch’s shoulder. “You said it was casual,” he says, and Mitch opens his eyes again, meeting Auston’s in their reflection. “Why the ties? You look like you’re going to work.”

Mitch glares, and Auston chuckles into his ear. His breath, warm against Mitch’s skin, is warm and comforting, reassuring. “Not that you don’t look hot when you go to work every day, because you do,” Auston clarifies, and Mitch laughs, turning his head to rub their noses together. 

Auston catches his mouth in a kiss, and Mitch makes a soft sound, turning in Auston’s arms so they’re facing one another, Mitch’s lower back pressed against the edge of the counter. Mitch tilts his head up, seeking another kiss, but instead gets Auston’s mouth on his skin, his lips dragging along Mitch’s jawline and his teeth grazing Mitch’s earlobe.

“You always look hot,” he mumbles into Mitch’s ear, and Mitch’s eyes flutter closed. He digs his fingers into Auston’s biceps, a move meant to keep Auston close -- maybe they can just skip the reunion all together and do this instead -- but then the heat of Auston’s body is gone, leaving Mitch to stare open-mouthed at his retreating back.

“Rude!” he calls, and he follows Auston’s laughter into the bedroom, adjusting himself in his jeans as he goes. 

“Here,” Auston says, tossing a black shirt at Mitch’s face. “You look good in this one.”

Mitch shakes it out a little, holds it out in front of him. “You bought me this,” he says with a smile, and Auston looks at him, smug.  
“Of course I did. I’m the only one of us who has any taste.” 

“Hey, I have good taste,” Mitch argues as he fits the shirt over his head. “I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“Aww, baby,” Auston coos, moving in to bury his face in Mitch’s neck. “Love you too.”

“Stop,” Mitch laughs, when Auston’s mouth hits a ticklish spot. He ducks out of Auston’s grip and takes one last look in the mirror, smooths down a few hairs that are sticking up in the wrong direction, and grabs his wallet off of the dresser. He tosses Auston the keys to his truck and rolls his neck, shakes his hands at his sides, trying to get rid of the nervous energy that’s been building up inside him all day. 

_It’s just Dylan_ , he tells himself, even though he knows it’s never _just_ anything when it comes to Dylan. 

“Ok,” he says, blowing out a breath and hoping Auston doesn’t see any of his nerves through his grin. “Let’s do this.”

\--

“Tell me again why they’re having this thing at your old school?” Auston asks as they walk into the gym. “And why are there so many balloons?”

Mitch laughs at the way Auston’s looking around with his mouth half open. “I dunno,” he says, kicking at a bundle of bright balloons at his feet. “I wasn’t on the planning committee.”

“I feel like we’re at a high school dance,” Auston says. 

“Nah,” comes a voice from behind them. “Our dances had _way_ more twinkly lights.”

Mitch takes a deep breath before he turns around, because he knows that voice. He’d know it anywhere, probably. 

“Hey, Mitchy,” Dylan says, and he looks exactly like Mitch remembers, except --

“You got bigger,” he says, and immediately flushes, embarrassed. “I mean, y’know. Like. Uh. You’ve been -- working out? Have you been working out?”

Dylan laughs brightly and pulls Mitch into a tight hug, patting him on the back twice before breaking the embrace. “Good to see you, man,” he says, sincere. “Nice to know you’re as weird as ever.”

Beside him, Auston laughs, grabbing Dylan’s attention. “Hey,” Dylan says, holding out a hand, which Auston takes. They shake, and Dylan introduces himself. “Dylan Strome. Good to meet you.”

“Auston Matthews,” Auston says, and drapes an arm around Mitch’s shoulders. “Somehow this one roped me into being his date tonight.”

“Hey!” Mitch sputters, elbowing Auston in the side. “Don’t listen to him, Stromer, he’s head over heels in love with me, he just likes to act all cool about it.”

Dylan smiles fondly, but Mitch can’t help but notice the flicker of -- _something_ in his eyes. “C’mon, Marns. Auston. I’ll buy you guys a drink.”

“Uh, I think it’s on open bar,” Mitch says as they make their way across the gym, Auston on one side of Mitch and Dylan on the other.

Dylan laughs again, knocking his shoulder against Mitch’s. “Even better,” he says, and Mitch rolls his eyes.

“Still cheap then,” he chirps.

“Kinda like you, babe,” Auston jumps in, and Mitch gasps dramatically. 

“I am _not_ cheap,” he says, and the three of them fall into a playful argument about which of them is tightest with their wallet.

It feels normal, like Mitch and Dylan haven’t been apart for years, like Auston and Dylan didn’t just meet five minutes ago.

The gym starts filling with people, and Mitch settles in.

\--

An hour later, Auston is engrossed in conversation with Emily Andrews, the smartest girl in Mitch’s graduating class. She’s telling him about all the places around the world that her job has taken her, and Auston’s “dream destination” list is a mile long. 

“He taken you to any of those places yet?” Dylan asks, nodding in the direction of Emily and Auston. 

“We went to Ibiza last December, and Aruba last month,” Mitch says, and Dylan raises his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Paris for our one-year anniversary, Iceland just for the hell of it.”

“Damn, Marns. Good for you,” Dylan says, tossing his plastic cup into a trashcan. He studies Mitch for a few long moments, and Mitch is squirming, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dylan shrugs, offering a small smile. “You look happy.”

Mitch glances at Auston then, meeting his eyes. Auston winks before turning back to his conversation, and Mitch bites the inside of his cheek to stop the obnoxious smile threatening to split his face. “Yeah,” he says. “I really am.”

“Hey,” Dylan says suddenly. Mitch recognizes the familiar mischief in his eyes. “You wanna go see if our old lockers are still standing?”

As if Mitch needed to be asked twice.

\--

Not much has changed since the days Mitch roamed these hallways with Dylan, their arms linked at the elbows or Mitch’s hand shoved in Dylan’s back pocket. The lockers are the same dark blue they were ten years ago, the floors still squeaky beneath their shoes.

“I can almost hear Mr. Hunter yelling at us to stop making out and get to class,” Mitch says with a laugh as they pass their old science classroom, Mr. Hunter’s name plate still hanging on the door. Dylan gets a fond, faraway look on his face and smiles, jabbing his elbow into Mitch’s side. 

“You were always getting me in trouble with the PDAs,” he teases, and Mitch laughs, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. 

“Some things never change,” he says, and Dylan tilts his head a little, questioning. “I mean, y’know. Because Auston. He’s not, uh. Really big on PDAs either. So.”

An awkward silence hangs between them, and Mitch wishes he hadn’t hit that late growth spurt at 20 so he could cram himself into one of the lockers and hide from Dylan like he used to hide from the bigger guys that pushed him around when he was a freshman. 

Dylan snorts then, covering his mouth to hide his laughter. It’s contagious, and before Mitch knows it, they’ve both dissolved into giggles, leaning into each other as their shoulders shake with laughter. Mitch is smiling so hard his face hurts, and it’s only then that he notice Auston leaning against a row of lockers just a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smirk on his face. 

Mitch feels caught, like he’s doing something he shouldn’t, but when Auston pushes off the lockers and makes his way towards them, he doesn’t look upset. The opposite, in fact -- he’s grinning, and Mitch can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster, can’t hide the new smile that takes over his face, the one that’s reserved specifically for Auston. “Having fun?” Auston asks, and Mitch risks a glance at Dylan, relieved to find that he’s still smiling too. 

“Mitch is just being his old dorky self,” Dylan chirps, and Mitch puts a hand on his chest, mock-offended. 

“You wound me, Stromer. I’ll have you know that I outgrew my dorkiness a _long_ time ago.”

“Yeah,” Dylan says, after a pause, and there’s a softness in his voice that wasn’t there a minute ago. “Guess you did, Marns.” 

“Anyway,” Mitch says quickly, clapping his hands together. “I really don’t want to get locked in here all night again, so.”

“ _Again?_ ” Auston asks, and Dylan snickers.

Mitch slips his hand into Auston’s as they make their way to the exit. “Long story, babe,” he says. “Just high school stuff.”

Just _Dylan_ stuff, really, but the last thing Mitch wants to do right now is regale Auston with stories of his first love, especially not when said first love is standing three feet away. (There’s also the thing where Auston doesn’t _know_ about Dylan, and Mitch isn’t quite sure that right now is the best time to bring it up.)

“Whatever,” Auston says, “I’m starving. You wanna go grab some food with us, Dylan?”

Dylan looks at Mitch, like he’s asking for permission to say yes. “I dunno,” he says, pulling out his phone like he’s looking at the time. “I should probably get back, I have an early flight.”

Mitch rolls his eyes, groaning. “Whatever, Stromer, you’re coming. I haven’t seen you for like, eight years and probably won’t see you again for another ten.”

“Right,” Dylan says, after a pause. “Sure, yeah. Ok. I’m in.”

Mitch looks at Dylan’s headlights in the rearview mirror and hopes he doesn’t regret this. 

\--

“So how did you guys meet?” Dylan asks, leaning back in his seat with one arm crossed loosely over his stomach, his beer bottle dangling between his fingers, like he's settling in for the long haul.

Mitch holds up one finger so he can swallow the bite he just took, washing it down with a swig of beer. “Auston stalked me.”

Next to him, Auston chokes on his own drink. Mitch snorts a laugh and claps Auston on the back while Auston coughs into his own fist, clearing his throat. Across the table, Dylan’s got one eyebrow raised, looking between them expectantly.

“Lies,” Auston manages, coughing again. “It was just -- _coincidence_

Mitch grins and leans into Auston’s side, nuzzling his nose into Auston’s shoulder. “Aww, babe. Don't be embarrassed,” he says, and when Auston puts his whole hand over Mitch’s face and playfully shoves him away, Dylan laughs out loud.

“For real, though,” Mitch mumbles into Auston’s palm, tugging at Auston’s wrist until he drops it into his lap. “I always get my coffee at the same place, like, two minutes from my office, and then suddenly every time I turn around with my order, this dude --” he says, waving his thumb in Auston’s direction, “is right behind me.” 

Auston rolls his eyes and leans back, draping his arm around the Mitch’s shoulders. “Whatever,” he says. “I mean, it’s not a lie, but I definitely wasn’t stalking you.” He turns his attention to Dylan then, continuing the story. “I’d just gotten a job at this sports medicine clinic just down the block from the coffee place.”

“Oh yeah?” Dylan asks, leaning in with his elbows on the table. “What do you do for a living?”

“Physical therapy, mostly,” he says with a shrug, and Mitch huffs. “What?”

“He’s too modest,” Mitch says. “He works with _high profile_ athletes.” His eyes dart back and forth as if he’s making sure the coast is clear, and his voice drops to a dramatic, loud whisper. “He treats _Connor McDavid_.”

Dylan’s eyes go wide, and Mitch bites his lower lip, trying to not give himself away. “The _hockey_ player?” Dylan asks, and Auston nods. Mitch glances at him just to catch the flush he’s sure is climbing Auston’s neck, and then, after a moment of quiet, he and Dylan burst out laughing. Auston, who’s clearly not in on the joke, frowns.

“What?” he asks. “What’s so funny?”

“You tell him,” Mitch says, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. 

“Does he not know?” Dylan asks, and when Mitch shakes his head, his jaw drops a little. “Wait, for real?”

“Know what?” Auston asks, looking between Mitch and Dylan like they’ve both lost their minds.

“I mean,” Mitch says with a shrug, taking a swig from his bottle. “It’s not like Davo and I talk anymore or anything, and Auston keeps his work at work, y’know?”

“Wait,” Auston says. “You know McDavid?”

“We went to school with him,” Dylan explains. “I mean, for a few years, anyway, before he went off to conquer the NHL or whatever.”

“Do you guys still talk?” Mitch asks, and Dylan nods. 

“Couple times a month, I guess? We keep in touch.” 

“Cool,” Mitch replies. “Tell him I said hi, yeah?”

“Or, y’know. I could just tell him,” Auston says, and Mitch doesn’t miss the hint of annoyance in his voice. “He’ll be in this week.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mitch says quickly. “Sure, babe, of course. I just didn’t wanna make it weird or anything. Y’know?”

Auston doesn’t say anything, and Mitch is suddenly nervous, regretting not let Dylan walk away back at the high school. Auston’s tense next to him, Mitch can feel it, and the awkwardness hangs between all of them, thick and unnerving. 

“So anyway,” Dylan finally says, dragging out the “o” sound. “You and Mitch. The coffee shop. Who made the first big move?”

The conversation is stilted for a few minutes, but after awhile, the tension fades, and they spend the next hour laughing and throwing back a few more beers, talking about Mitch and Auston’s life together and reminiscing about the past Mitch shared with Dylan. 

Neither of them mention the part where they dated for three years, and Mitch is glad for the way Dylan seems to understand not to bring it up. He always did seem to be able to read Mitch’s mind. 

When Dylan covers his mouth to stifle a yawn, Mitch signals for the check. “So this was fun,” he says, and he means it. It was good to see Dylan again after all this time, and Mitch is pleased that they seemed to pick up right where they left off, nothing strange about it. “It was good to see you, Stromer.”

“Yeah, man, you too,” Dylan says, giving Auston a look when he snatches the bill off the table. 

“You can get us next time,” Auston says, throwing some bills on the table. “I mean, I don’t know how often you’re in Canada, but.”

Dylan clears his throat, picking at the damp label on the empty beer bottle in front of him. “Actually,” he starts. “Sooner than you think.”

“What do you mean?” Mitch asks, wondering why Dylan’s not looking at him.

“I, uh. I just accepted a job offer,” he says. “I start next week.”

When he finally looks up, their eyes meet across the table, and Mitch’s palms start to sweat.

This is fine, he thinks. Everything is fine.

Now if only he could manage to convince himself that it’s true.

\--

They tried to make it work, he and Dylan. They lasted through the summer before their sophomore year in college before it got to be too hard for both of them. 

“I love you, Mitchy, you know how much I do, but this is just --”

“I know,” Mitch had said, his voice cracking. They were shoulder to shoulder in Mitch’s bed, their fingers twined together and resting on Mitch’s thigh. Mitch was set to go back to school tomorrow, halfway across the country from Dylan. “I hate this,” he whispered, and Dylan squeezed his hand. 

They were both crying, sniffling quietly in the silence that had settled between them. 

“Maybe after college,” Dylan said, his voice just barely above a whisper. “When we’re older, and we’re not so far apart, and we’ve -- “ he trailed off, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Sowed our wild oats?” Mitch said, and Dylan laughed sadly. 

“You’re such a dork,” he answered. “But yeah. Something like that.” It wasn’t what Mitch wanted. He didn’t want to sow his wild oats, he wanted _Dylan_ , but he knew this was best for the both of them. They had school to concentrate on, and Mitch had spent so much of his freshman year missing Dylan that he spent too much time in his dorm room moping and not enough time studying or meeting new people or doing anything but feeling sorry for himself. 

“I love you,” Mitch said, burying his face in Dylan’s neck.

“I know, babe,” Dylan whispered, his voice watery. “Me too.”

When Mitch woke up in the morning, Dylan was gone.

\--

A month and a half after the reunion, Dylan is back in his life like nothing ever changed. 

Except for the part where they’re not dating anymore, but that’s totally fine. Mitch is happy with Auston, he _loves_ him, and Dylan seems to really like him too, if the amount of time he spends with Auston when Mitch isn’t even around is any indication.

Auston had convinced Dylan to lease an open unit in their building, and it wasn’t like Mitch could argue without it looking suspicious. Dylan had loved the place, of course, and it was close enough to his new job that he could walk or bike if he wanted to, until he bought a car. 

Usually, though, Auston and Mitch were his transportation. They’d fallen into an easy routine, the three of them, with Auston dropping Dylan off on his way to work in the morning and Mitch swinging by to grab him on his way home at the end of the day. 

They’d eat dinner together more nights than not, flop on the couch at Mitch and Auston’s playing video games or watching whatever hockey happened to be on. Auston didn’t seem to mind that Dylan was around so much, and Mitch couldn’t deny that it was really nice to have Dylan back in his life.

And then one night, on the way home from work, Dylan says, “So, uh. I think I fucked up.”

Mitch frowns, looking over his shoulder before switching lanes. “What, like. At work?”

“No,” Dylan said, and Mitch suddenly noticed the way Dylan’s knee was bouncing. “I, uh. Does Auston -- did he not know that we dated?”

Mitch’s heart plummets to his toes. He tries to keep a neutral look on his face, but even after all this time, Dylan knows better.

“Shit, I _knew_ it, I’m so sorry, Marns. I thought you’d told him by now, I didn’t mean to --”

“What happened?” Mitch interrupts. I mean, what did he say? What did you say? How did this even come up?”

“This song came on the radio this morning,” he says, and Mitch knows immediately the one Dylan’s talking about. “And I started singing along, y’know, like we used to.” 

Mitch is going to be sick. He can feel it.

“And then Auston was singing too, and we started laughing, and he told me that that was your song. Yours and his, I mean, and I just -- wasn’t thinking, I guess? And I told him it had been our song too. Mine and yours.”

“Oh my god,” Mitch says under his breath. His heart his pounding so hard he thinks he might need to pull over. 

“He just kind of -- looked at me, like he didn’t know what I meant? But he didn’t ask, so I didn’t say anything, and then we just kind of -- awkwardly went our separate ways when we got home.”

“Fuck,” Mitch says as he pulls into his parking spot. “Fuck, _fuck_ , he’s going to be so upset.”

“That we dated?” Dylan asks, and there’s just a hint of defensiveness in his tone.

“No, not -- no, I mean, that I didn’t tell him. You’ve been here this whole time and we’ve been hanging out and I didn’t tell him. Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t tell him.”

He rests his forehead on the steering wheel, his hands gripping his thighs tightly.

“Marns,” Dylan says quietly. “Why? Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I gotta -- I need to deal with this,” Mitch says quickly, opening the car door. “I’ll see you later, Stromer, just. I gotta go.”

“Mitch, can you just -- “

Mitch doesn’t let him finish. He’s not ready to answer Dylan’s question, and even though he’s not ready to face Auston yet, either, it seems like the less painful thing at the moment. 

All he can do is hope Auston understands why Mitch kept this from him, even if Mitch himself really doesn’t.

Auston’s sitting on the edge of their bed with his elbows resting on his knees when Mitch finds him. He doesn’t look up from where he’s picking at his thumbnail, and Mitch steels himself against a sudden wave of dread.

“Hey,” he says, going for casual but probably failing miserably. “How was your day?”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound mad, exactly, just -- not happy.

Mitch sighs and runs both hands through his hair. The bed dips a little when he sits down, his thigh pressed to Auston’s. “It didn’t seem important,” he says, even though he knows it’s not true. 

Auston laughs, a little meanly. “Tell me it was just a high school fling, Mitch, because if not, those looks you’re always giving each other are gonna start worrying me.”

Mitch frowns, looking at Auston’s profile. He’s grinding his teeth like he does when he’s anxious, and Mitch loves him so much it hurts sometimes. 

“What looks?” he asks, and Auston sighs, finally turning his head to look at Mitch.

“At first I figured it was just because you guys go way back, right? I mean, high school is some fun times, you guys had a lot of memories, shit like that. But sometimes you look at him and it’s like -- I don’t know, Mitch. I don’t know if you’ve _ever_ looked at me like that.”

Mitch’s breath leaves his chest in a rush. “Babe,” he says, reaching for Auston’s hands, clasping them between his own. “Auston, come on, I _love_ you, of _course_ I look at you like that. All the time!”

“Was it serious?” Auston asks, and Mitch looks down, to the side, anywhere to avoid Auston’s eyes. “Tell me, Mitch, I need to know, because I get the feeling you kept this from me for a reason. A big one.”

“It’s not like that,” Mitch says. “I wasn’t keeping it from you because I’m -- because we -- “ He sighs and drags both hands down his face, blowing out another breath. “Yeah, ok, Dylan was my first love. He was my first -- well, everything, really.”

Auston watches him, waiting for him to go on, so Mitch does. He doesn’t mean to say so much, but once he starts talking about it, he can’t seem to stop. By the end of it, Auston is looking at him like he knows something Mitch doesn’t. It’s not a look Mitch enjoys being on the receiving end of, especially not from Auston.

“Auston,” Mitch says, after Auston’s been silent for a full five minutes. “Babe, say something. _Please_.”

“I think -- “ he stands up quickly, and Mitch’s stomach turns. “I need some air. I just gotta -- I need to think.”

“I love you,” Mitch says, because he means it, and because he needs Auston to know that. “I love you, Auston.”

Auston stops in the doorframe, his back still to Mitch. He sighs and drops his chin to his chest, but he says, “I love you too” before he leaves.

Right now, it’s the best thing Mitch can ask for.

\--

The clock on the bedside table says 1:05 when Mitch hears the apartment door open and shut, followed by Auston’s footsteps coming towards their bedroom. Mitch keeps his eyes closed, stays curled on his side while Auston moves around the room, opening and closing drawers as he changes clothes. He can feel Auston hovering near his side of the bed, and he holds his breath until he feels the mattress dip, the blankets shifting as Auston gets in next to him. 

“I know you’re awake,” he says quietly, and Mitch smiles into his pillow, rolling over to face Auston in the dark. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Mitch whispers, reaching up to run his fingers through Auston’s hair.

“I’m sorry I ran out like that,” Auston says, and Mitch shakes his head.

“It’s ok. I get it,” he replies. “I should have told you before the reunion. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Auston laughs softly. “C’mon, Mitch. You know exactly why. And it’s ok. I get it.”

Mitch blinks into the darkness, frowning at Auston. “You do?”

Auston brushes Mitch’s hair back out of his face, and Mitch closes his eyes. “You might have moved on when you guys broke up, but that doesn’t mean you got over him.”

“Auston,” Mitch says quickly, ready to convince Auston not to leave him, that he and Dylan are the past and Auston is his future. “It’s not like that, I don’t --”

“Hey,” Auston says, in that voice he always uses when he’s trying to calm Mitch down. It doesn’t work this time, so Auston says it again. “Hey. Mitch. Look at me.” He cups Mitch’s face in his hands, thumbing over Mitch’s lower lip. “I love you. I can’t even imagine my life without you.”

Mitch swallows, trying to stop the wetness in his eyes from leaking out onto his face. He breathes and waits for the “but”.

“But don’t you think -- “ Mitch closes his eyes. “Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to figure things out with Dylan?”

“Auston,” Mitch says, pleading. “Please don’t do this, I _love_ you, please don’t -- 

“Babe, Mitch, no no no,” Auston says, leaning in to kiss Mitch gently to shut him up. “I’m not. I’m not breaking up with you.”

Relief washes over Mitch like a wave knocking him to the ground. He clutches Auston’s shirt, afraid to let go. 

“I”m just saying,” Auston goes on. “I think it’s pretty obvious there’s some unresolved stuff there. And not just on your end.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mitch whispers, feeling guilty all over again. He knows Auston’s not wrong, is the thing -- he knows there’s still something there between him and Dylan, he’s known it since he saw him in the gym the night of the reunion. But he means it when he says he loves Auston. Auston is his future. Dylan is his past, and there’s nothing to do but leave it that way. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Auston says, kissing the top of his head. “I mean, I wish you’d have told me before I met him, but I’m not mad that you still care about him.”

“Who even are you?” Mitch mumbles, and Auston’s laugh rumbles warmly between them.

“Just a guy who loves his boyfriend and wants him to be happy,” Auston says, and Mitch hears him take a breath before saying, “even if that means he has to share him.”

“Auston,” Mitch says carefully, not really understanding what he’s hearing. Auston can’t be saying what Mitch thinks he’s saying. Can he?

“Just -- figure it out, ok? Do whatever you need to do. Take Dylan out, I don’t know. Feel it out.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Mitch whispers, on the verge of crying again. 

“You’re not,” Auston says firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. No matter what.”

“Even if you have to share me,” Mitch says, repeating Auston’s words.

“Even if,” Auston replies, and kisses Mitch like he has something to prove. They kiss until they’re both breathless, grinding against one another like they’re desperate for it. Mitch cries out when he comes, whispering “I love you” over and over into Auston’s skin.

\--

“Hey,” Dylan says when he gets into Mitch’s car the next afternoon. Mitch has been on edge all day, nervous about the conversation he knows he has to have with Dylan. He’d planned out what he wanted to say, thought it through, drew bullet points in his head listing the pros and cons of doing something like this, of having Auston _and_ Dylan, like it was just something people _did_.

None of that is what comes out when he starts talking. 

“Can I kiss you?” he blurts instead, and Dylan drops his water bottle to the floor.

“Can you -- what -- Mitch, _what_ \-- “

Mitch laughs, a little shy, and takes a deep breath. “That came out wrong,” he says. “Well, not _wrong_ , exactly, but I had a lot more to say before I got to that part. I guess I just. Got ahead of myself.” He looks out of the corner of his eye to find that Dylan’s staring at him, slack-jawed. 

He leans over and crooks his fingers under Dylan’s chin, closing his mouth.

“Say something,” he says quietly. Dylan reaches up and wraps his fingers around Mitch’s wrist, squeezing gently, and Mitch’s heart rate kicks up about ten notches. 

“Auston,” Dylan says, because it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“He told me to,” Mitch explains, and the look on Dylan’s face is a comical mixture of horrified and intrigued and hopeful. “He, uh. He seems to think there’s still something between us. Feelings, or something.” He looks up at Dylan nervously, and Dylan looks right back. “Is there?”

“Mitch,” Dylan says, like a plea, like an invitation, and the only thing left for Mitch to do is lean in. 

Kissing Dylan is nothing like kissing Auston. Kissing Auston is like looking into his future, like getting a dog and building a family and growing old together. 

Kissing Dylan is like going home.

Mitch can’t decide which is better, honestly, and he pulls away from Dylan, touching his fingers to his lips. “Well,” he says, chuckling. “Guess that answers that.”

“I didn’t mean to come up here and fuck up your life, Marns,” Dylan says, and Mitch hates the look on his face, the guilt that Mitch knows all too well. 

“You didn’t,” Mitch says. “Hey, Dyls, you didn’t, I swear. I’m glad you’re here. Having you in my life again is like -- I don’t know. It just makes things...better.”

They’re sitting in Mitch’s car, parked on the side of the road in front of Dylan’s office, and Mitch just kissed him for the first time in eight years. Mitch smiles, Dylan smiles back.

Mitch reaches for Dylan’s hand over the center console and drives them home.

\--

Dylan considers walking to work the next morning. Mitch told him Auston was ok with this, that he _encouraged_ it, even, but Dylan still feels like part of Auston will still be angry with him or something. 

“It’ll be fine,” Mitch tells him on the phone on his way to work. “ I told him what happened. Y’know. About the kiss.”

Dylan sighs into the phone, happy. “It was a really good kiss, eh?”

He can hear the smile in Mitch’s voice when he replies. “Really, really good,” Mitch says. “I can’t wait to do it again.”

Dylan can’t either, is the thing. But Auston’s been a great friend to him since they met, and he feels like he owes it to him to at least make doubly sure that Auston’s ok with all of this. 

“Just talk to him,” Mitch says. “He’s not gonna bite, I promise. Although there was this one time -”

“Stop,” Dylan laughs. “The last thing I need to think about his him biting you when I’m trying to have a conversation with him about _me_ biting you.”

“You’ll be fine,” Mitch promises. “See you after work, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dylan agrees. “See you then.”

They end the call, and Auston knocks on his door, right on time.

“Hey,” he says, when Dylan opens it. “Coffee?” He holds out what Dylan knows to be one of Mitch’s travel mugs, and Dylan takes it, wondering if he’s imagining the way Auston is watching him carefully. 

“Thanks,” he says. “You ready to go?”

They drive the first few minutes in silence, Dylan fiddling with the radio while Auston hums softly, until Dylan can’t take it anymore.

“Are you sure about this?” he blurts, and it wasn’t what he meant to say, but at least it’s broken the ice. Auston laughs, like he knows exactly what Dylan is talking about.

“What, driving you to work?” he teases. “I’ve been doing it for awhile now, Stromer, pretty sure I’m ok with it.”

“Auston,” Dylan whines. “I’m serious. You -- Mitch _kissed_ me, he said you _told_ him to. Are you sure about this? Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Look, Dylan,” Auston says, flipping on his turn signal. “I love Mitch. I’ve loved him for a long time. He’s like -- he’s it for me, y’know?”

Dylan nods. He knows the feeling.

“I’d do anything to make him happy, is what I’m saying. So yeah, Dyls. I’m sure. This isn’t some -- it’s not like you two just wanna bang each other, ok?”

Dylan laughs, covering his face with both hands.

“I mean, I’m sure you do, but just -- there’s something there. Something big. I see it every time you look at each other.”

“I’m sorry,” Dylan says, because it feels like something he should apologize for.

“No, hey,” Auston says as he pulls up in front of Dylan’s office. “Don’t be. You guys -- it’s really cute, ok?” His cheeks go a little pink, and _oh_ , Dylan thinks. Huh. 

“I gotta go,” Dylan says regretfully, because really, he’s already five minutes late for work. “Can we, uh. Maybe all get together? Tonight?”

“Yeah, man, of course,” Auston says, smiling. Dylan’s halfway out of the car when Auston says his name.

“Yeah?”

“I can see what Mitch sees in you. You’re really -- you’re great, Dyls. So just -- think about it. If you want, I mean. If you think you could -- with me, I mean. Because I think I could. With you.”

Dylan blinks, stunned. It’s the last thing he was expecting, for Auston to put himself out there like that. He doesn’t even know if _Mitch_ knows he was going to that. Dylan can’t deny that he’s interested, though. Auston’s amazing, and they get along really well. He’s also ridiculously good-looking, and Dylan has to resist the sudden urge to get back in the car and kiss him. 

“How the hell am I supposed to get through the day _now_?” he complains, and Auston grins at him, mischievous.

“Is that a yes then?” Auston asks, his eyes dancing.

Dylan groans and closes the door. 

Eight more hours until he can kiss Mitch again. Eight more hours until he can kiss _Auston_ , holy shit. 

_did you know auston wants to kiss me?!?!?!_ he sends to Mitch, who replies with three winky faces, a kissy face, and an eggplant. 

Dylan laughs out loud. 

He should have known.

~

“Shh, you’re gonna ruin it! Just -- here, hold this, I’m gonna -- oh shit, he’s coming, hide!”

Mitch walks into the apartment to find a very flustered Auston sitting at the kitchen table. He’s pretending to write something on a piece of paper, but Mitch knows him better than that.

“Ok. What’s up?” Mitch asks, looking around the apartment. “You’re not throwing me a surprise party, are you? Please tell me you’re not, I just got home from work and I’m not -- “

“Surprise!” Dylan yells, and Auston grins at Mitch when Dylan comes into the room. He’s holding something in his arms, something brown and white and -- 

“You did _not_!” Mitch shouts, dropping his laptop bag to the floor. “Oh my god, _look_ at her!” 

“Happy Birthday, babe,” Dylan says, handing the squirming puppy over to Mitch. She licks his face immediately, and Mitch coos at her, talking nonsense. 

“Do you like her?” Auston asks, standing up. He scratches the puppy’s head and kisses Mitch’s cheek. 

“Are you kidding?” Mitch says, holding her out in front of him. “She’s perfect. I can’t believe you guys did this!”

Auston and Dylan look at each other and roll their eyes, smiling fondly. “Sure you can’t,” Dylan says. “Like you haven’t been dropping hints for the past month.”

Mitch gasps, affronted. “Lies! I wanted a new car!”

“Sorry, babe,” Auston says. “That’s what Dylan’s getting for _his_ birthday.”

“What, you don’t wanna drive me around anymore?” Dylan asks, leaning into Auston’s side. “Sick of me already?”

“Nah,” Auston says, brushing his lips against Dylan’s temple. “Not quite yet.”

“Give it time,” Mitch teases, cuddling the puppy to his chest to defend himself from Dylan trying to pinch him. 

“C’mon, I got cake,” Auston says, when they’ve stopped playing around long enough for him to get a word in. Mitch watches Auston and Dylan move around each other in the kitchen, Dylan getting the plates and Auston cutting the cake. Dylan watches Auston, a look on his face that Mitch has been on the receiving end of quite often. It overwhelms him, a little, how lucky he is to be able to love two people as much as he does. To have them love him back, and to watch them fall in love with each other right before his eyes.

Auston brings three pieces of cake to the table, leaning in to kiss Mitch as he puts a plate in front of him. Dylan comes to the table with a carton of milk and three glasses, and Mitch gets a kiss from him too.

They sit around the table together, the puppy sleeping at their feet as they talk about their days, Auston and Dylan taking turns feeding Mitch bites of cake until it devolves into one of them smearing frosting on the other. A chunk of cake drops on the puppy’s head, and the kitchen fills with laughter.

Mitch was happy with Dylan. And he was happy with Auston, too. But he's never been as happy as he is now, here with the both of them.

And looking at them looking at each other, he knows they feel the same. 

Mitch wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
